Another Holmes
by AnonimoSMW
Summary: When Sherlock and Mycroft's parents are kidnapped they call upon their younger sister to help. Cressida Holmes, AKA the Avenging Angel, is determined to figure out who took their parents but with all the enemy's the Holmes children have gained, how will they find the right culprit? All the while they must lie about Cressida's identity because she supposedly doesn't even exist.


Running through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse would have been calming if not for the fact that she had two unknown men chasing her while she chased two different remarkably fast men. They were famous, well, at least famous to her. Gun shots rang out as she ran and if not for the darkness, she might have been hit. Thanking her luck she sped up her pace and turned the corner.

There was a bright florescent hanging from the ceiling, it flickered a few times before choosing to stay lit.

"Who are you? Please, just let us go." The man said pleading

"And why would I do that? You've stolen a very important thing dear" She said smiling at him and stepping into the light.

"You're a girl?" He said shock in his voice as the other one said, "Valentina?"

"Ah yes, I forgot Mr. Mour, we already know each other. Well, I know you and you know false information about me." Her smile was beautiful and cruel at the same time.

"Why would you do this Valentina?" He spat out, "If that is even your name"

"You're smarter than I gave you credit for. You are correct, about my name at least, you might better know me as Angelic." The horror on the two men's faces was almost laughable. Almost.

"The Avenging Angel?" One whispered to another

"Good to know my title proceeds me." She said walking towards them slowly.

"Don't come a step closer." The smaller said trying to be intimidating while his voice shook.

"Please, I've a plane to catch in," She checked her watch, "two hours. What on earth would stop me?"

The taller of the two pulled out a gun and aimed it at her. "This'll stop you"

"hmm, I don't think so" She took another step towards him

"I'm warning you! I will shoot!"

"Go ahead then, I'm waiting" She said taking another step towards him so that they were face to face with the gun pressed against her chest. She watched a bead of sweat run down the thief's face as he pulled the trigger. Nothing.

"See what I mean. I'm afraid I'm not intimidated. You see, as you were running you kept trying to shoot at me. First mistake. You're awful at aiming. Well, turns out you've run out of—"

"It was always like you to be secretive and mysterious." Said an unknown man from the shadows. The young girl shivered trying to identify the voice. "Now, Cressida, if you're done showing off. I've a car waiting for you." He added

"Never were subtle were you?" Asked a second unknown voice in annoyance.

"Shut up" the other voice said back as both men crumpled to the ground. Revealing the sight of two very unhappy men.

"Mycroft? William?" She asked confusion written on her face, and she hated more than anything to be confused.

"It's Sherlock" the taller of the two muttered as the other cast him an annoyed glare.

"I'm hurt you didn't recognize us dear sister" The other continued as if he hadn't heard the man on his left.

"Well, in my defense I haven't seen the two of you in, what is it? Since I was fourteen right? So nine years there abouts" Cressida said glaring at her brothers. Sherlock bent down and picked up the bag and looked inside to see the contents. There was a diamond tiara that was worth quite a bit.

"Not our faults." Mycroft complained, "You never phoned dear sister. How were we supposed to know where to find you?"

"You weren't supposed to find me you twit"

"Can we go now?" Sherlock asked in a board tone. "I believe we have a plane to catch" and then he was off walking out of the room.

"William!" Cressida said annoyance laced in her words

"It's Sherlock! Sherlock Holmes!" He shouted his words carrying through the empty room. She sighed before grabbing the knife that was strapped to her arm and slitting the thief's throats. Next she lifted their shirts up and carved into their skin "The Avenging Angel." When she looked up she met Mycroft's penetrating stare.

"It is not proper for young ladies, such as yourself to be-" Mycroft started

"No need for the speech dear brother." Cressida said patting his cheek before wiping the blood on the dead men's clothes and skipping in the direction in which Sherlock had left in. Yes, dear brothers indeed.

The weather was cold and frigid and hit Cressida like a slap in the face as she stepped out. Her brother stood in front of a sleek black limo. Clearly it wasn't Sherlock's, Mycroft's then. It was new and Cressida's old friend Anthea sat in the back seat. Anthea had once been a dear friend who no one would hire because of her age. Back then Cressida always went to her big brothers for help.

Anthea was roughly nine years older than her but that had never really mattered much. Taking a deep breath she opened the car door and greeted her old friend.

"Anthea"

"Cressida. Glad to see you're doing well." Anthea said in response looking up from her phone for a whole twelve second. Somethings never changed. Sherlock clambered in after her and Mycroft after him. Mycroft whispered something to the driver and then the car began moving.

"We need to talk, Cressida" Mycroft said, all seriousness in his voice, as always. "You're not even supposed to exist. We need a cover for you if we bring you home. It is very important and we need to know that you'll help us"

Cressida sighed, "Fine, I'll bite. What's gone so wrong that you had to track me down?" she asked

"It's mum and dad. They've disappeared. Nobody has seen them for eight months at least and when we searched the house there were signs that they left without warning. Without meaning to. There are also signs of struggle. We've taken a few images of the house. See if you can see anything" Sherlock said.

Cressida flipped through the pages and looked at them. Now she understood why they'd been so freaked out. This was bad. As far as she knew their parents had no enemies so it was probably one of Mycroft's, Sherlock's, or her enemies. Which meant a lot of people. She mentally cursed.

"You want us all to work together don't you?" She asked Mycroft

"I'm afraid so" He said solemnly. "If you'll help us-"

"Done." Cressida was more than a bit shaken. Who would do this, and why? She would know soon enough for the kidnapper was watching the Holmes children, watching and waiting. Soon, he would strike them all down, one by one.

Cressida was shaken awake by Sherlock in a ruff manor that triggered her reflexes. Her elbow came up to jab Sherlock's neck but Sherlock was fast too. He managed to have her arm behind her back in an arm lock moments before it hit his neck.

"Let go" she said through gritted teeth squirming in her brother's grasp. She was no longer in the limo and was laying on a soft mattress with cream white sheets. Someone most likely carried her in, that or she could teleport, and it was most likely not the later.

"Get up then" Her brother said, always the one to be difficult.

"Fine then" Cressida said as her brother released her. She sat up from the bed and combed the hair that had stuck to her face behind her ear. She'd slept surprisingly well but wondered where she was.

The room had green wallpaper that was, to say the least, hideous. To her right was a door that had often been thrown open. The room smelled like Sherlock and the wardrobe was slightly ajar. Cressida could see multiple articles of clothing in it, all seemingly indexed. Sherlock and Mycroft wouldn't bring that many clothes if they were at a hotel. They were smart and only brought what was necessary.

There was a picture of the periodic table that gave her the impression it was Sherlock's room. Mycroft would have something more extravagant like a huge portrait or of something famous. The last thing she noticed was a certificate. It read; _San Yama Bujitsu Renmei Certificate of Rank._ That would be karate related she skimmed the rest of it for a name. _Sherlock Holmes._ Definitely his room.

Cressida threw off the covers and got to her feet. "Brother, why have you taken me to your flat?" She inquired

"It was available and Mycroft said there was absolutely no room for you at his." Sherlock paused before adding. "He was correct though when he said that people can't know who you are. You don't _exist_ "

"I know. We can just say I was a childhood friend and I've been wanting to checkup on my dear old friend" Cressida said sarcastically slinging an arm around Sherlock.

"Honestly, no one's going to believe that I had any childhood friends"

"That's because you didn't" She said as he shrugged her arm off.

"Fine. Have it your way" he said exiting the room. Always the dramatists she thought as he left. She hurried to catch up. She hated that she didn't know where she was. She walked down the hallway and found herself in a kitchen where a sandy haired man sat reading a newspaper.

"About time you got up, Sherlock" The man said

"I'm afraid I'm not Sherlock" Cressida said to the man who put down his paper and stared at her. She had wavy dark brown hair that went down mid-back and she had warm brown eyes. Her dark hair contrasted with her pale skin that made the bags under her eyes more obvious. She had long legs and her hair was quite a mess.

"Umm, who are you?" The man asked.

"Old childhood friend of Sherlock's. The name's Cressida by the way" she said

"And you spent the night here, at the flat" he asked

"Yes, problem?"

"No. no, not at all" he said shaking his head.

"Who are you again?" She asked

"John, John Watson" The man stuck his hand out as he said it, but Cressida just stared at his hand

"Right, okay then. I'm just going to-" He trailed off when he saw Sherlock. Thank goodness he was here.

"I assume you two have already met. Cressida and I are going out now—" Sherlock started

"Like 'going out going out' or"

"Yes. We're going out to meet Mycroft. Honestly how many different types of going out are there, John?"

"Well I meant like dating" John said trying to clarify

"He's not interested in girls like me" Cressida said hurriedly as Sherlock sighed loudly and left. Seriously he's got to stop doing that. Cressida once again was left to hurry after him.

"Girls like you?" He inquired when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes, girls that share the same genes and parents as you" Cressida said stepping out of the door and hailing a taxi.

 **Okay, so I've never actually posted a Sherlock fanfic so yeah. Also, sorry about the grammar mistakes because I know they're in there. Anyway, R &R (that's what people say at the end of chapters right? What does it even mean!) Bye! **

**-Anonimo**


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